


Class

by Angelique458



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Ficlet, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelique458/pseuds/Angelique458
Summary: Sansa tries to explain Petyr why she can't attend the class he teaches.





	Class

**Author's Note:**

> I made this [little aesthetic thing](https://escapist-capsule.tumblr.com/post/165222280020/this-paper-is-impossible-she-flared-up-putting) and wanted to write something to go with it. There is no plot in this one sorry.

“This paper is impossible,” she flared up putting the book down in frustration.  
“If you took my class, it would be easier for you.”

It occurred to Petyr that it might complicate his teaching process quite a bit but the thrill of the game it would bring was too strong to keep the suggestion for himself.

“You know I can’t.”  
“You are teasing yourself, sweetling. You are a beautiful girl but this means nothing.”

  
But she _knew_. Such words wouldn’t provoke retaliation. Her heart wouldn’t be hurt. Not anymore. She knew far too much.

  
Her body came closer, sinking to his lap and curving more and more towards him until she was so close she could hear his breathing change. The papers flew everywhere as she tasted him and his fingers abandoned the task of holding them immediately, moving towards something better and more **meaningful**.

"You are telling me I wouldn't distract you?" she asked parting away while she observed the avidity for more visible in his eyes.  
"I admit you are very distracting."

  
Maybe the discourse around it wasn't necessary but Sansa smiled a gentle victorious smile.  
"Thank you," she said triumphally leaning closer, gently pouting her lips in a silent request.

And he understood. The kisses were getting deeper and more passionate, only the gasps for air were breaking them apart. Sansa's hands were clutching Petyr's shirt, her pale fingers diving into the soft cotton fabric, digging in and holding on for support.

  
Sun was already down, only the leftover of its rays was casting warm pinkish light into the room. Petyr hasn't talked. He would tease her with some lewd remarks but this time the girl was in charge. He would feel like he is betraying his character of an opportunist if he interrupted her now.

She wanted more, the grinding simply wasn't doing the trick anymore. Each kiss was just prompting her to go further. It usually wasn't her to be the demanding one but she has already fallen. She has already lied. She can ask for what she wants.

  
"More," her voice was muffled with her shirt as she pulled it over her head and tossed it on the floor. Only a bra was hugging her rib cage, fitted and holding on the last bits of her modesty.  
"So impatient, my sweet darling."

  
The sun was making her skin glow in the golden hour. Her body was calling him like a siren, to go to the deep dark webs of the ocean. The bra fell on the floor and she cuddled closer, pressing her chest against his. Her fingers now need no anchor. They were roaming carefully down his chest, opening the button up along the way. She didn't mind the white shirt was left hanging on his shoulders. It made her even more excited. Wilder. More of that forbidden fruit there for her to devour.  
  
His hands cup her breasts, even more, enhancing her hunger that's woken up out of her lust to be right tonight. She likes when he grows hard under her. It makes her feel powerful and in charge. Especially now when her knees are straddling him. In his office she is towering above him with her red hair loose on her shoulders, partly covering her body.

 _How he would think of this, of me naked on the top, if I entered the class tomorrow_ , she thinks satisfied with how her agenda went.

  
Her body grinds down on him slowly with her teasing present in every movement.

  
"Sansa," he speaks to her with a low voice. Her name carries across the room with the message she understands very well; you are too much.  
"But you would think of me during the classes," she starts asking for more. More sex, more love, more hurt, it is all connected together and merges into one when she is with him.  
"I always think of you."

  
That it is. The ultimate I love you, closest one she will get and it is enough. Maybe it is not a love she has but she doesn't care. It dragged her out of the boring dullness her life was before and at this moment that is all she wants.

  
Shifting a bit she pulls her underwear down, leaving the skirt on. His hand immediately roams up her thigh and he always takes his time with it. Fingers sliding up and down her skin, gently grabbing and releasing just to soothe her back down with a gentle stroke. Muffled moans fill up the room, the wetness between her legs is almost uncomfortable. Once he releases himself as well Sansa doesn't wait anymore. Her own cravings are overpowered and she lowers herself down in his lap, letting him fill her and the world turns hazy. Sansa forgets it all, the need to be right, nothing matters just how she looks into his eyes and how he tries to keep silent but the groans still find a way to escape his lips. His hands are guiding her hips up and down, quickening the pace so the collisions get harder.

  
It is difficult for her to keep her composure, redness takes over her cheeks, not even biting her lip is helping to muffle her moans. The flushed face buries in the crook of his neck, sloppily kissing it, mumbling something incoherent.

  
She can tell her is close, the grip of his fingers on her hips is a rough one. It is pushing her body harder and faster until she feels that tingling sensation. The tension builds up until she cries out weakly grabbing on his arms for support and comfort until he follows her.

  
Those couple of seconds after sex, that seems much longer, when her body is still pressed close against him she feels at peace.

Almost normal.


End file.
